Reflections of a Soldier
by DigiExpert
Summary: Floef takes some time one night while on sentry duty to reflect on the war and where's he's been.


**I have no idea why I wrote this, but the idea came to me and I couldn't let it just die. So I worked on writing it out and there you have the final product. I'm really not sure how many are fans of Floef, but you get a fic centered around him anyway!**

The sunset streaked across the sky, vibrant pinks, purples, and oranges. The colors mixed and mingled in passing, one final shot before darkness fell upon the land. It streaked the water, creating a glowing hue. In the distance, birds called back and forth as they settled their young in for a nightly nap. Thin wisps of smoke rose from the trees, bringing with them the scent of a dinner devoured hungrily. For many, it was a time to rest before the dawn of a new day. For some, they never saw the sunset.

He hunkered down in the tree stand, setting his gear bag beside him. He settled the gun on his lap, keeping a sharp eye out for any enemy Simouns that might fly over during the course of the evening. Removing the helmet, he shook free a mop of bright orange hair, matted and sweaty. To tell the truth, he felt disgusting, but he'd never voice that out loud. At least, he wouldn't do that again. Memories of training and the punishment it led to came to mind.

The warm breeze blew, and he was reminded that it was late spring. He should be at home, planting his crops for the growing season, working on his plan to get a cute bride, but instead he was fighting a war he didn't believe in. His home had been overrun by soldiers, who'd stolen all the crops they could get their hands on. Hmph. They weren't farmers and had no idea how much work went into growing one kind of crop, let alone the three he'd worked up to. Plus, they'd never know how to use the crops to find a cute bride. Of course, in his journey as a soldier, he'd come across plenty of women in the towns they'd passed through. Some would giggle at him, or call him cute. He looked much younger than he really was, and that never worked out to his advantage.

Vivid blue eyes scanned the horizon, searching through the darkening sky for any enemy ships. It was as though he'd never escape the war or fighting. He was spending the better years of his life fighting for causes he didn't care for. Who's to say this war would be the last one? Would peace last only a few years, as it had before, before another war began again? He was already fighting old friends. He didn't want to be the one to kill them or watch those he cared about die in the line of fire. He'd not come across Vyuraf, but he also knew that Vyuraf was out there, fighting just as he was. Part of him was glad that so few of his fellow Sibyllae decided to be male. Of course, that didn't keep some of them too far from the battle.

He sighed. A memory rose to the surface. He remembered the time the Sibyllae teamed up with the ground soldiers. He remembered Mastiff, and the time they spent together. He'd never seen Mastiff after that and now he wondered where he'd ended up. Had he been killed in the first war? Was he still fighting in this war? Floef wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

Hours passed and dark settled. Floef passed the time staring out over the water, watching how the stars created tiny pricks of light that were speckled on the rolling liquid. Every so often, he'd stand and stretch, waking aching joints and muscles. It soon must be time to switch sentries. Then he'd be able to catch a bit of rest.

Soon there was the sound of soft footsteps on the ladder. Floef glanced to the side, noticing the soldier that was to relieve him. "Trouble?" asked the soldier in greeting.

"None," replied Floef, placing his helmet back on, and looping the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. He began to descend the ladder, mind already on stretching out on the hard ground and closing his eyes. It wasn't pleasant, but it would be peaceful, just like camping under the stars on summer nights. If he could forget the sounds and images of war, it'd be a campout with nothing but the sounds of nature to lull him to sleep.

As he feet touched the ground, he heard the all too familiar drone overhead. He glanced up, and saw the outline of two enemy Simouns. His eyes widened as he realized they were heading straight for the encampment. The shrill bird call sounded three times above his. His replacement had sounded the warning, but would it be in time.

He ran, running to man one of the larger posts, hoping beyond all hope that they had not spotted the camp. He prayed to Tempus Spatium, wondering if his prayers were ever heard anymore. How could the Simouns continue to fly under such guidance? Why would they fly for the priestesses who meant to kill each and every one of his platoon? Would Tempus Spatium really decide to kill a former Sibylla? No, now was not the time to consider such thoughts. His only goal was to protect against the enemy.

A brilliant light lit the sky, and he looked up in time to see the Iron Ri Majon executed in the distance. That brilliant blue blaze…he had once been the creator of such prayers. Now they were being used against him. Once more the sky lit up, another Iron Ri Majon created. This time, it was closer than before. Then, gunfire as his company received back up from their fighter planes. He watched, mesmerized, seeing the battles from years before take place once again.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Move it!" shouted the voice. "Get to your location, pronto!" He was pushed forward, and his feet took over as his mind shut down. There wasn't any time to think, only to react. Floef held tight to his helmet as he crashed through the underbrush, letting his body guide where his eyes could not see.

To his left, there was another flash of light. "Shark Ri Majon," murmured Floef. Then his world went black.

It was some time later when Floef awoke. There was noise, so much noise surrounding him that it made his head throb. He tried to open his eyes, but quickly shut them as soon as the first tendrils of light entered. Too much, too much, his brain screamed at him. Instead, he tried to sit up, but found even that to be a difficult task. He finally laid back, panting from just that bit of exertion. He'd try again later. His eyes felt heavy, and he drifted off.

When Floef next awoke, the noise had stopped. He opened his eyes fully, to find darkness surrounding him. The only light was dim and in a faraway corner. He could only discern that he was in a tent. The sound of footsteps was heard, and he turned his head to the right.

"You're awake," whispered the soft female voice, as its owner pulled a stool up to the bed.

Floef found himself staring into bright green eyes. "Yeah… what happened?"

"Enemy Ri Majon… got your side. You… were badly burned. We've managed to take care of the worst of it." She smiled at him, the gentle smile of a nurse.

All Floef could think was _possible cute bride_. His eyes sparkled playfully. "Thank you. I wish I could do something for you in return. Perhaps when I return home, I'll be able to plant my crops. I grow a special variety of carrots now," he explained, chest puffing proudly.

"Th-that's all right," replied the nurse, waving her hand at him.

"I insist! You have to try them." A hint of the girl still inside came out.

"I don't think it's—"

"You know of carrots that taste better? I guarantee you don't!" countered Floef.

"I think you should rest. You just woke up…I'll get some food…" The nurse tried to redirect the conversation to get the soldier to calm down. She was afraid he'd end up hurting himself.

"Not until you promise!"

"Yes, all right then. I'll try your carrots," replied the nurse, complying.

Floef settled back on his cot, grinning ear to ear. "You won't regret it!"

"I'm sure I won't," answered the nurse. "I'm going to go get some food for you. You've been out a couple of days and need your strength."

Floef watched the nurse go, and knew his hospital stay wouldn't be all that bad from now on. The tent was awful quiet, with only the sounds of coughing and breathing to be heard. It certainly didn't make the idea of staying in a field hospital very enticing. If he had any luck though, he'd be able to do more than get the nurse to try his new carrots.

**Floef's original injuries were going to be much worse, but I was nice and decided not to do that to him. Just a random author tidbit to throw out there.**


End file.
